Sick Day
by dazedblackbird
Summary: Daytime television has a way of bringing people together...sort of. A three-chapter ficlet based on true personal events. Rated T for language and very mild suggestive moments. Rating and genre may change after the publication of the final chapter.
1. Steel Magnolias

A/N: Believe it or not, it took a late night, hours of feeling like crap, and a homemade truffle to get me to back to writing fan fiction. Go figure.

I also noticed that this category wasn't getting any love from any fans, and since I am the original instigator of this category it will forever be my duty to continue to stimulate it. Sick Day will be a three-chapter ficlet. Originally, I was going to publish all three chapters in a single oneshot, but the third chapter manipulated my muses, and now I am committed to turning this story into a true story; not just a oneshot. Please give me support by reviewing! I don't want my future fanfictions to suffer the same fate as my past (Naruto) ones.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot…and the sickness, definitely the sickness. RE: Play and its cast belong to Christy Lijewski and Tokyopop; the movie Steel Magnolias belongs to its respective authors/producers and holds all original copyrights.

Read, review, and enjoy!

"_The only thing that separates us from the animals is our ability to accessorize."_

"This is the gayest movie I've ever seen." Rail leered at the television set, his watery, itchy eyes making the screen seem ten times brighter than it really was. His flannel pajama pants stuck in uncomfortable places and his favorite shirt (the one with the gaping hole in the side) was no longer proving to be as wonderful a companion as it once had. Sitting next to him (and taking up most of the blanket, Rail noted grudgingly) was a sniffling Izsak, his rust-colored eyes rimmed with an irritated pink that matched the burning hue of his cheeks.

"How is this gay? It's a classic movie about southern women who support each other through the good times and the bad times," retorted the latter in a nasal voice, "and personally, I think it's pretty good."

"Well excuse me for rubbing your personal preference the wrong way," snapped Rail. The 24-hour sickness had both of them by the throats, and out of the two the carrot-top was the one who was worse for the wear. Forced to share the couch, the blankets, and the TV, Rail and Izsak were beginning to behave like two pecking hens; ironic, since the only true 'hens' of the abode were out on the town at that moment.

Izsak laughed suddenly at the movie, heaving a large sigh from Rail and causing him to fidget around in his frustration, the small amount of blanket left to him sliding from his figure. At this movement Izsak curled into himself, his eyes momentarily breaking from the TV to instead warily watch his seat mate. He whispered hoarsely, "Rail?"

"I'm just hot, alright?! _Dammit_, I hate being sick," And with that Rail simply flopped back onto the couch, his efforts to resituate himself beneath the blanket having been ditched. He ran a hand through his sweaty orange hair and snapped, "Just watch your damn movie," before falling into silence to do just that.

But now the trials and tribulations of southern women were the last thing occupying Izsak's mind. He looked at the hotheaded man next to him and, as he slowly uncurled himself from his place pressed up against the armrest, lifted his arm, gesturing for Rail to get back in next to him. For a brief moment pink eyes met watery ones, the former pushing whilst the latter remained both reluctant…and suspicious.

"Look. It's not that I don't _like_ you or anything…well, no, I don't like you in general--"

"Just shut up and get in."

Rail's eyebrows shot up into his hairline as his face twisted into an expression of pure disbelief; had the normally calm, secluded Izsak just _snapped_ at him and in the form of an order no less? One thing was for sure: his expression must have been pretty animated, for Izsak's own face had relaxed in a second, his eyes shining with mirth instead of that dull sheen so characteristic of the sick. Rail quickly straightened and stared at him apprehensively. "What's so amusing?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing; your face was just pretty funny. Anyway," Izsak gave the arm holding the blanket open a little shake, "hurry up and get in, all of the heat is going."

Rail mumbled, cursing beneath his breath and looking at the other in disbelief. "You're serious?"

"Very."

Swallowing his pride (and coughing a little on behalf of his sore throat) Rail slid in next to Izsak, settling in for the duration of the daytime movie. He did not, however, accept the half of the blanket he was offered. "I'm still burning alive here," he muttered. For a moment Izsak stared at him.

"Well you know, you could just take your pants off."

Rail's only response was to kick him.

"_Oh! Well don't you expect me to come to one of your churches or one of those tent-revivals with all those Bible-beaters doin' God-only-knows-what! They'd probably make me eat a live chicken!"_

"_Not on your first visit!"_

"_Very good, Annelle! Spoken like a true smart-ass"!_


	2. The Color Purple

A/N: Second chapter! Please continue to read and review, my darlings, I do so appreciate it. Reviews really do wonders for a writer, no matter whether they are flames or nice critiques. :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot…and the sickness, definitely the sickness. RE: Play and its cast belong to Christy Lijewski and Tokyopop; the movie The Color Purple belongs to its respective authors/producers and holds all original copyrights.

Read, review, and enjoy!

You could always count on daytime television for one thing, concluded Rail, and that was a line-up of movies chock-full of nothing but drama_ this_ and drama _that_. Case in point: The Color Purple. 

Oh _gods_ did this movie have it all! Depressing plot, dramatic women, and a running time that was much too lengthy to be good for you (not to mention the lack of a good explosion here and there). But what was worse, was the fact that the movie itself was not a bad movie. No, this was a masterful work, both on paper and on screen, and it was for that reason alone that Rail was stuck watching it…. Well, almost.

"So this book was banned from school reading lists?" Rail glanced next to him and gave a nod to poor Izsak, who looked, as the movie drew on, like he was realizing more and more why, indeed, the book had been banned.

"Yup. Published in 1982, it received the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction a year later and has been a part of the one of the greatest controversial debates ever since." Rail finished off his little rigmarole by unceremoniously shoving the last slice of cold pizza from the coffee table into his mouth.

"Oh, well you certainly seem to know your stuff, Rail," said Izsak absentmindedly, smacking his lips at what used to be a plate full of pizza. It was mid-afternoon by now. Having watched one lengthy movie and with the idea that they would have no choice but start another, the two boys had fixed themselves some leftovers and returned to the couch, only now Rail sat against the armrest while Izsak chose to remain alone in the middle.

Rail gave his rounded shoulders a shrug of nonchalance, cheese dangling from his overstuffed mouth as he chewed out a response. "It was some book analysis for my English class in 11th grade; no big deal. I didn't even get a good grade on it."

Now _that_ had Izsak genuinely surprised. Apprehensively watching Rail powerhouse through cold pizza, he said, "You, Rail? You got a bad grade on something?"

"Hey, it's not as dramatic as it sounds alright? The teacher had it in for me that year," was the guitarist's retort, his words slightly distorted as he slipped his fingers in and out of his mouth, crudely lapping up the pizza grease that coated them. Izsak blinked and averted his eyes, trying not to take notice of Rail's crude show.

"Uh, right, of course they did." He sat there awkwardly for only a second before he stood up, his legs a bit wobbly from both sitting down too long and being sick, then grabbed up the empty dishes, saying, "I'll just go ahead and clean up here. You go ahead and finish the movie for me, Rail."

"What! And just where the hell do you think you're going?!" Rail demanded to know after removing his fingers from his mouth with a small _pop! _Izsak paused momentarily on his way to the kitchento look back at the other man, but he only smirked good-naturedly and said,

"I can see why that teacher must have had it in for you that year."

Rail was left sputtering in disbelief as he watched the retreating back of Izsak disappear into the other room. Never one to lose face, Rail called out in retort, "Oh yeah? Well…you…uh, oh, _ohfuckit_!" 

Man enough to realize that his retort hadn't been much of a retort (yet not yet man enough to have left the matter alone in the first place), Rail turned back toward the television set and crossed his arms with a huff. He chewed his lower lip in unconscious thought while forcing himself to regain concentration on the movie.

The chewing soon stopped however as he quickly began to regret staying in the living room once he realized what part of the movie they had come to.

"Oh hell no, I am not watching the process of female circumcision performed on a small child. I'm not that kind of guy. Hey, Izzy, do you mind saving some of those dishes for me?" And with that, he sprung up from the couch and followed after the bassist, the soft music of the movie's end credits beginning to play gently in the background.


End file.
